


wishing for right now

by goldtreesilvertree, mothwrites



Series: expecting the unexpected [2]
Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: Babies, Domestic Fluff, F/F, F/M, Post-Canon, eiffel doesn't have amnesia because we wrote part one before the finale, hera and eiffel had/coded a baby, your favourite co-authors aren't dead we've just been busy making out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 13:09:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17244809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldtreesilvertree/pseuds/goldtreesilvertree, https://archiveofourown.org/users/mothwrites/pseuds/mothwrites
Summary: Helios scans the room as his visual sensors calibrate and settle. He can’t locate the first voice, but there’s a figure looking at him. A man, his internal dictionary supplies after a long moment. Smiling.“Hey, little guy. Welcome to the world.”





	wishing for right now

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel to our 2017 Big Bang fill, 'expecting the unexpected', so best to read that first!

 

< _Visual_ _sensors_ _coming online >_

_Hello?_

_Oh! Hey there, Helios. We weren’t expecting you just yet, but everyone is really excited to meet you. Just give me a second and..._

_< Audio sensors online>_

Helios hears a rapid stream of beeping noises that he can’t quite locate. Everything is a little fuzzy.

_Hello? I’m..._

_“Is the code processing OK, Hera? Are they-?”_

_“They’re just coming online for the first time, Doug, they’re going to be quiet.”_

Helios scans the room as his visual sensors calibrate and settle. He can’t locate the first voice, but there’s a figure looking at him. _A man,_ his internal dictionary supplies after a long moment. _Smiling._

 _“_ Hey, little guy. Welcome to the world.”

 

*

 

“But when can I _see_ the baby?” Teddy demands. He wrings his chubby little hands in his stripy pyjama shirt and stares up at his mothers with the kind of wilful defiance only a five-year-old can muster. “You said he woke up!”

“They’re still adjusting to being alive,” Minkowski reminds him, gently. “Remember, babies need lots of quiet time to get used to things.”

This is news to Teddy, who has never had quiet time in his life. “I can be quiet!” He promises loudly despite himself.

“And you can’t see him properly yet,” Lovelace reminds him. “He’s staying in his servers while he figures things out.”

“It’s a he?” Teddy demands excitedly.

“It’s a he!” Hera chirps, excitedly from the wall. “Not sure how he came to that conclusion but he’s sticking to it.”

“Told you,” Teddy says smugly to his _mumia_ _. “_ I knew he’d be a boy like me.”

“I don’t know if we can handle two of you _and_ your uncle,” Minkowski teases. “Come on, get ready for school and Helios will probably be ready to meet you when you get home.”

Teddy stares up at his mothers with big brown eyes. “Promise?”

“Promise,” they reply as one, before shooing him back to his room to get dressed.

Meanwhile, in the server room:

“What’s he saying?” Eiffel asks eagerly, unable to process the beeping from Helios’ servers.

“Uh, a lot of it is gibberish to me right now,” Hera says fondly. “He’s asking a lot of questions, though. And I think he wants to go exploring.” One of the new drones in the corner rapidly picks up speed, hovers for a moment, and then collapses back into its charging deck. It’s followed by a joyous explosion of beeps. “Oh, that was fun, he liked that.”

“How about we show him around before he flies into a wall?” Eiffel suggests, picking up one of the smaller, wireless cameras. “You like that idea, little guy?”

Helios beeps rapidly, and the camera-drone in Eiffel’s arms vibrates a little.

“Your dad is very useful like that,” Hera agrees.

“I’m- hey!” Eiffel grins up at Hera, then down at Helios. “I guess I didn’t tell him that.”

“Don’t worry,” Hera assures him, as Helios beeps and wiggles in his arms. “He knows.”

“Our kid is so smart,” he says, proudly. “You get that from your mom. This is her room – your room too, for now.” Eiffel follows the pull of Helios’s vibrations to the mirror on the wall.

 _Me?_ Helios asks Hera. His voice is still learning his own character but she can tell he’s excited.

 _You,_  Hera replies, in the humming code that is a mother-tongue to them both, a distant second language to the humans she loves so much. _You’re our kid. Kid_ _child_ _baby_ _loved small one,_  she adds, giving him context and connotation for the new words he’s picking up so quickly. Soon he’ll have to learn to speak with the rest of the word aloud, but for now she takes quiet joy in sharing these first conversations with him alone.

 _Kid,_ Helios chirps, and then runs through the words he’s learned. _Kid mom dad man smi_ _le_ _room._

 _You’re learning._ Hera feels a glow of warmth run through her synapses as she repeats aloud: “He’s learning so quickly!” She’d wondered what it would be like to learn as Teddy did, to not come into the world with an understanding and a language and a place ready-made for you. She hadn’t expected to feel Helios’s excitement as if it was her own.

“Of course he is,” Eiffel says. “He gets his smarts from his mom.”

 _Mom,_  Helios repeats again. _You’re mom?_

 _I’m you_ _r mom,_ Hera affirms, and does not notice every light in the server room begin to glow. _We created you, and we love you very much._ The last doesn’t matter much to Helios yet. Only existing for a few minutes means he has little use for describing emotions just yet. The last is for Hera herself, embedding in Helios’s developing intelligence the knowledge that he is loved.

Outside their internal dialogue of binary, Eiffel is finishing the tour of the house. “And this is the kitchen,” he adds, offhanded. “This is home, Helios.”

 _Home,_  Helios repeats. _House room mom dad love?_

 _That’s right,_ Hera affirms. She looks at Doug, beaming down at their son. _That’s love._

 

_*_

 

The other residents of the house return all at once – there's only one car between them – and let loose another torrent of excitable beeps from Helios.

_Door key hall people? Woman_ _woman_ _kid?!_

“The others are home,” Hera remarks dryly, while talking in binary to Helios and affirming everything he’s said. “And-” the thundering of tiny feet is heard - “yep, there’s Teddy.”

“Your aunts,” Eiffel adds, “and-”

Teddy bursts into the room in a whirlwind of pent-up energy. “Is that the baby? Can I meet him now?!”

 _Kid!_ Helios chirps again, flying wonkily around the room. A second drone starts to hover wildly and Eiffel catches it before Helios crashes into himself. _Mom dad kid?_

 _Ren_ _ee Isabel kid,_  Hera replies, as Teddy’s mothers catch up with him. _Friend._

Teddy is waving his arms above his head in what could be a greeting or a futile attempt to catch and cuddle a drone. “Hi Helios, I’m Teddy!”

 _Teddy,_ Helios chirps. He lowers a drone shakily down to Teddy’s eye level. He looks different to dad: his hair is red and his skin is darker. But he smiles in much the same way. Helios is comforted. _People kid friend._ _Hello._

 _“_ What did he say?” Teddy demands, but holds out one arm carefully for Helios to land on.

“He says hello, and that he’d like to be friends,” Hera replies aloud.

“We’re family _and_ we're friends,” Teddy assures him, running a pudgy but very careful hand over the drone. “Has Anne met him yet? Is she back from class?”

“She gets home after dinner,” Eiffel replies, his gaze fixed on the drone as if it was a newborn, though Helios’s sensory bots are far less fragile. 

“Anne’s your sister,” Teddy tells Helios seriously. “She’s old but she’s cool. You’re going to love her _so_ much _.”_

 _Anne dad kid?_ Helios repeats again, adding: _Anne friend?_

 _That’s right,_ Hera says. _She’s human, like dad. But she’s your sister and a friend._

 _Sister,_  Helios echoes, as if searching for connotations Hera can’t provide. She’d never really met another AI, before Helios.

Helios vibrates with excitement, and it makes Teddy laugh, so he does it again. Then he flies – still shakily, but with purpose - to his dad’s shoulder and chirrups at him. Dad smiles even wider. Helios stores this information.

“You ready to meet the rest of the family, kiddo?” he says, though Mom has already given him names and faces to attach to people. “These are your aunts, Renee and Isabel.”

 _Renee_ _Minkowski_ _, Isabel Lovelace. Aunt sister_ _cousin_ _mom dad?_  Helios asks Mom, after scanning his internal dictionary. His mom says, _clever boy,_ and Helios feels a rush of excited energy.

 _All together_ _, with you,_ Hera explains, _that makes a family. Mom dad son aunt cousin sister. Family._

Teddy is telling him much the same. “We have an uncle too,” the boy says in hushed tones, “but I’ve never met him. He sends _awesome_ birthday presents though.”

Behind him, Lovelace rolls her eyes and Minkowski groans into her hands. “He’s not your uncle, Teddy,” Minkowski says with the exasperated air of someone who’s repeated themselves for the thousandth time.

“He writes Uncle Daniel on the cards!” Teddy protests, and then continues to jabber to Helios at a mile a minute while the adults exchange tired and sympathetic looks.

“How are you holding up?” Lovelace says, switching to a grin as she sits down on the sofa by Eiffel. “Been a long time since you were a new dad.”

“I don’t have to change diapers this time around, but Anne never tried to fly into a wall,” he replies, watching Helios bob up and down and reply to Teddy’s words with an excited series of beeps.

“Ouch,” Lovelace laughs. She laughs more often these days, and soft wrinkles are beginning to form around her eyes, which are kinder now but as bright and mischievous as ever. “Well, Teddy’s bumped into his fair share of walls, floors and trees, and he seems fine so far.”

“Hera says it won’t hurt him, but it’s hard not to worry when- Teddy, remember the rule about fingers and propellers!”

Helios flies to his dad’s shoulder, and Lovelace scoops a complaining Teddy into her lap. “He’s only been alive for a few hours, sweetheart, be gentle.”

“I want to hug him so much, though,” Teddy replies, looking longingly at Helios.

“He doesn’t really know what a hug is yet,” Eiffel tell him, but there’s a similar wistfullness in his eyes. “Maybe later on we can build a more huggable chassis, okay?”

 _Hug_ _?_ Helios asks Hera, and she feels a slight pang. She can give him definitions and answers. She will never be able to give him hugs.

 _Human touch,_ she explains in the simplest words. _Affection. Love._

 _Hug?_ he repeats, and chirrups a rushed code of the same in Dad’s ear. _Hug._ _Dad h_ _ug._

“What’s that, bud?” Dad asks.

 _Try it in English,_ mom says. _Dad._

Helios beeps, and then tries again. "Dad.”

Dad gasps, and then inexplicably starts leaking. Helios flies up in a panic, reverting to chirrups again. _Mom! Mom! Broke_ _n!_

 _“_ It’s okay,” Dad tries to reassure him. 

Isabel adds: “The leaking is normal. For your dad, anyway.”

Helios, still uncertain, settles back on his shoulder. “Dad.” His voice sounds a little like Teddy’s now, young and boyish. “Mo - Mom dad.”

Teddy bounces up in Isabel’s lap, caught by her hands before he can dive towards Helios. “He can talk already?”

“He’s very clever,” Hera says. “But I think that might be it for now.” Helios’s current drone is winding down. _Take it to the charging port, baby. Just over there. You need a rest so your internal servers can go over all the new things you’ve learned._

 _Dad hug,_ Helios says, sounding much like a sleepy and stubborn Teddy did at two years old. _Dad take me._

 _“_ Want me to put you to bed, bud?” Eiffel asks, removing the now-still drone from his shoulder and settling him in his arms. 

 _Dad hug,_  Helios repeats, as his sensory unit is connected to his charger. The last thing his visual sensors pick up is Teddy covering the drone with a small, patterned cloth.

“Babies need blankets,” Teddy says, “to help him sleep.”

 

*

 

“ _Who’s_ _U_ _ncle Daniel?”_ Helios asks. Hera starts. That is _not_ a phrase she’d taught him. It’s one in the morning and he and Hera have been going over words learned in the day while Eiffel sleeps. (It took two weeks to convince Helios that he can’t talk to his dad _all_ the time.)

“ _Nobody you_ _know, baby. Don’t worry about it_.”

“ _Uncle is a fam_ _ily word,_ " Helios protests. “ _Mom dad aunt uncle.”_

Unlike Hera, Helios will never have to obey orders. It’s a beautiful feature of his coding, but frequently an inconvenient one. “ _What did Teddy tell you about him?”_

Helios beeps in gibberish, his equivalent of a shrug, or so Hera assumes. “ _Teddy doesn’t know Uncle Daniel,”_ he explains. _"Mystery. Sends presents. Teddy blew up a flower_ _bed_ _.”_

 _“Did he now?”_ Teddy’s mothers would not be pleased about that. “ _Why do you think I know him, sweetheart?”_

 _“_ _You’re_ _M_ _om,”_ Helios says simply. “ _Mom knows everything._ "

A small burst of pride. “ _You don’t need to know everything just yet, though.”_

 _“Uncle is a family word,”_ Helios says again, confused and indignant. 

“ _Sometimes, family is... complicated. Sometimes people want to belong and don’t know how to make other people safe while they do it.”_

“ _Uncle Daniel is not safe?”_ Helios asks. _“What is not-safe?"_

Hera feels an anxious buzzing in her servers she’s been able to ignore for far too long. The world is dangerous, and complicated, and Helios is so very, very small. “ _Not-safe is...”_ She sends him an image of Teddy’s chubby fingers too near the propellers. “ _When people could get hurt. That’s why moms and dads try to keep our babies safe.”_

 _“But called uncle,”_ Helios says after a while. “ _Why?”_ He wants to wake dad up and ask him, but he’s not supposed to until the sun has been up for a few hours. It‘s a very long time. “ _Does_ _D_ _ad like Uncle Daniel?”_

That question brings up data from memory banks Hera would quite like to delete. _“You can ask him in the morning. I think Teddy calls him uncle because that i_ _s_ _what he’d like to be called. Isabel and Renee don’t call him that, though, because they think he is not-safe.”_

Helios takes a moment to ponder this. “ _Want Teddy safe always,”_ he decides eventually.

“ _I want you safe always too,”_ Hera says, and redirects his attention to the list of words they were running through. “ _Do you remember where we were?”_

 _“No. Let’s ask dad,”_ Helios says cheekily.

“ _You are learning far too much from Teddy,”_ Hera sighs, and brings up the list herself. “ _Now, what’s sky?”_

 

_*_

 

“Maybe we _should_ call Jacobi,” Eiffel says one day during a late breakfast in the server room. Helios is playing with Teddy in the garden, so they have a moment to themselves.

Hera thought Eiffel had long since lost the ability to surprise her. “ _Why?”_

 _“_ Because...” he gestures ineffectually. “I dunno, we survived a lot together. And we all got to be happy. He’s... well, I have no idea what he’s doing, but I doubt it’s anything as nice as this.”

“You said he didn’t want to stay in contact when you saw him after we got back.”

“Jacobi _never_ says what he means, it’s been five years, and he gave us a _house.”_

 _“_ He’s also been cyber-stalking us from Chicago. How else did he find out about Teddy?”

“Stalking is a harsh word, he only uses the information to send Teddy presents.” Eiffel stops suddenly. “Wait, if you know that, does that mean you know where he is? What he’s doing?”

“I don’t have to answer those questions.” A pause, then: “He’s in Chicago with a new name. Working in bomb disposal, I think. He’s _fine.”_

 _"_ Bomb _disposal!_ "" Eiffel crows. “See? That’s growth!”

“ _That’s_ the character development you were looking for? At least half the presents he’s sent Teddy are _definitely_ not legal to send in the mail.”

“But they’re safe, and Teddy loves them,” Eiffel points out. “Look, I know it’s weird and stupid but ever since Helios brought it up, I realised... I kinda miss the guy.”

“You- miss him?” She can’t conceal the note of insecurity that creeps into her voice. _Not good enough, not good enough..._

“We were kinda friends, weren’t we?” Eiffel muses. “Or maybe _miss_ is the wrong word. I just... yeah, It's guilt. It’s a big ol’ pile of guilt.”

“You don’t need to feel guilty because we’re happy. He’d probably insist he didn’t care anyway.”

“It’s not that we’re happy,” Eiffel says. He adds, more softly: “It’s that we’re all alive.”

“We _are_ alive,” Hera repeats, and somewhere, in the back-end of her servers, she’s already writing an email to one Mark Midland.

 

*

 

“It’s totally safe!” Teddy says, and then does a cartwheel in the grass to emphasise his point. “Come on!”

Helios hovers in the doorway. The door that leads from the kitchen to the garden was always a boundary until now. “Not-safe,” he argues. “Weather. Animals. Dirt!”

“I’ll protect you!” Teddy insists, holding out his arms for the little drone, “and your mom says it’s okay now.”

Helios is better at flying now, but he is still shaky until he lands on Teddy’s arm. “No dirt,” he says with a tone of great finality for a very young person.

“No dirt,” Teddy promises, solemnly. The garden is dry and the ground baked solid by California-summer heat. “You want to play tag? Or explore first?”

Helios thinks on this. “What is tag?”

“It’s where I chase you and if I tag you, it’s your turn to chase me and tag me. It’s fun! But Mom says we can’t play it in the house anymore.”

The not-safe image of Teddy’s fingers and the propeller flashes up in Helios’s mind. “Explore,” he says firmly.

Teddy gives a disappointed huff, but follows Helios as he hovers around the outer edge of the garden. “That’s the flowerbed I blew up,” he says, helpfully.

“Cool,” Helios says fervently. “I talked to mom about Uncle Daniel.”

“What did she say? She won’t tell me about him.”

Helios lets out a very Teddy-like sigh. “Not much.”

“I don’t think she likes him.”

Helios surveys the flowerbed again, or what’s left of it. “She says... not-safe.”

“Moms think lots of things aren’t safe. That’s why they’re moms.”

“Moms know _everything,_ " Helios teaches him. “Especially when it comes to not-safe.” That’s why he’s only flying into the garden today, and only because he knows his dad is watching from the kitchen window.

“Don’t be scared, Helios, I’ll protect you from the not-safe.”

“You’re five years old,” Helios says, but affectionately bumps his shoulder as he says it. He surveys the ground again and notices something new. “Flower? Flowers?”

“You’re a _baby,”_ Teddy retorts. “You like flowers?” He picks one, balances it on top of Helios’s chassis.

Helios cranes his eye-stalk trying to look at it. “What are they for?”

“I don’t know. Mom likes them.”

Helios says, “wait here,” and then flies back to the kitchen window, bumping it gently until his dad looks up from his coffee and opens it with a smile. He shakes the flower down onto the counter. “Flower,” he says triumphantly.

“For me?” Dad says, and smiles as he picks it up and tucks it behind his ear. “Thanks, kiddo.”

Helios buzzes in contentment. So _that’s_ what flowers are for. “I am exploring,” he says proudly.

“And what have you found so far?” Mom asks.

“Flowers make smiles,” Helios says. “And I don’t like dirt.” He shakes a crumb of sun-baked soil into the sink. “Bad.”

“We can always clean you up later, buddy,” Dad says, brushing dust off his chassis. “You can play in the dirt with Teddy if you want to.”

“Don’t like dirt,” Helios repeats, and Mom laughs.

“You must get that from your mom,” Dad muses. 

Helios privately agrees. Humans can be _messy._

“Can I go explore more?” he asks.

“You can explore until dinner,” Dad says, and Mom adds: “You’ll need to recharge then, and so will Teddy.” 

Dad scoops him up and holds him out of the window so he can take off again. “Go have fun, kiddo. Explore the world that’s waiting for you.”

 

*

 

Eiffel is startled awake at 2am by Helios insistently pulling his covers. He wonders if adding grab-claw hands to one of the drones was a mistake. 

“Someone’s at the door!” Helios says, in a manner much like an excited Labrador.

“At 2am? I think you’ve got your wires crossed, buddy,” he yawns, and tries to reclaim the blankets.

“Someone’s at the door,” Helios insists. “Not-Anne. _New._ "

“Hera?” he says, because even now she’s always there, always listening.

“He’s right,” she says, surprised. “I think – oh my God, he actually came.”

“Hera?” he repeats, more nervously. “Who’s outside?”

“Uh,” Hera says and almost glitches. “Look, he never even answered the email, I didn’t think he’d just _show up_...”

“You _emailed Jacobi?!”_

“Technically,” Hera says as Helios whirrs over to the window for a better look, “I emailed Mark Midland. Because you said you missed him and you gave me the puppy eyes!” She argues at Eiffel’s deep groan. “What was I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know, talk to the rest of us about it first before you _invite him round for dinner?”_

 _“I didn’t invite him!”_ Hera hisses as, at the same time, Helios says in a worrying show of intuition, “Is that _Uncle Daniel?”_

Eiffel groans again, before swinging his legs out of bed and grabbing a dressing-gown that was Hera’s birthday present to him. “You’re explaining this to Helios,” he says, ominously, before stomping out into the hall.

“Uncle Daniel is not-safe!” Helios chirps insistently, following his dad. “Come back!”

When Eiffel opens the door, he doesn’t recognise him for a second. Jacobi looks... _healthy._ There are no bruises or bags under his eyes, he’s regained the muscle mass that atrophied in space, but his smirk is as annoyingly charming as ever.

“I _knew_ Uncle Daniel would catch on,” Jacobi says.

 

*

 

“Why is there a blanket on his charging station?” Jacobi asks an hour later as they set up the sofa bed in the living room.

“Teddy gave it to him. He won’t go to bed without it now.”

“That’s... adorable,” Jacobi says in that dry tone of voice where Eiffel never knows if he’s joking or not.

“It’s mine!” Helios insists from the charging station. “You can’t have it.”

“I don’t want your blanket, weirdo.” Jacobi regards him almost fondly. “God,” he adds, in a softer tone of voice, “Maxwell would _love_ you.”

“What’s ‘weirdo’?” Helios asks. “What’s ‘Maxwell’?”

“Helios,” Eiffel whines, exhausted. “Go to sleep. We’ll do vocab in the morning, okay?”

“Not sleeping,” Helios says stubbornly. “Dad not-safe.”

Jacobi practically pouts. “Why does your robot son keep saying I’m not safe? What lies and slander are you spreading?”

“It’s not inaccurate,” Hera points out, “and he would keep asking why ‘Uncle Daniel’ helped Teddy blow up half the garden.”

“That’s my nephew,” Jacobi says proudly. He yawns, and then sits on his haunches to look Helios in the ‘eye.’ “Listen, buddy. I am definitely not-safe. _But_ I promise, I wouldn’t hurt anyone in this house... Any more,” he adds, after Hera’s disbelieving snort. “And especially not your dad.”

Eiffel raises an eyebrow.

“There’s no joy in it,” Jacobi tells him. “It’s like kicking a puppy. I like a _challenge._ ”

An anxious, whining buzz from the little drone. “Mom? Mom! Not-safe! _Not-safe!”_

“He hasn’t progressed to sarcasm,” Eiffel explains.

“Wasn’t being sarcastic,” Jacobi shoots back. “Tell him I come in peace, won’t you?”

“Recharge time, Helios,” Eiffel repeats. “Nothing not-safe is going to happen while you’re asleep, buddy, I promise.”

“Mom?” Helios pushes, because while Dad is very good at lots of things, Mom knows _everything._

 _“_ Go to sleep, baby,” she repeats, and he settles begrudgingly into his charging point.

“He really is kind of cute,” Jacobi says after a pregnant pause. 

“He’s a great kid,” Eiffel says, still half-defensive.

Jacobi nods. “I don’t doubt it,” he says, finally sounding a little sincere. “You did a good job, the four of you.”

“What about you? What have you been doing?”

Jacobi shrugs as he pulls off his hoodie and takes off his shoes. “This and that. Bomb disposal. It’s not very exciting, after... everything, but that kind of what I was looking for. Trying to live a regular human life. I have friends and everything. I’ve been on _dates._ " He smiles, and it looks as if it was meant to be proud but it’s somewhat... hollow. “So, we’re all doing well.”

“I guess.” He doesn’t ask  _why ar_ _e you here? Why send all those presents to a kid you never met? You didn’t even know when his birthday was, you just kept sending them till you got it right._  The air is ringing with questions he can’t form. "You think you’ll be in Cali for long?”

“I have a week of annual leave stored up,” Jacobi says, carefully avoiding Eiffel’s eyes as he gets settled. “Don’t have to spend it here.”

“You can stay. If you want. We don’t have that many visitors anyway.”

Jacobi shrugs. “Maybe. See what the captain says in the morning.” Still the captain, after all this time. Still reverting to the nearest authority. “And if your kid can get used to me,” he adds. “Only you and Hera could raise an AI that _panics._ "

 

*

 

Helios getting used to Jacobi becomes less of a problem when Teddy’s face lights up with “ _Uncle Daniel!”,_ because while Helios might be growing more quickly, he’s never really shaken Teddy’s influence.

“Is this okay?” Jacobi asks later, when it’s just the adults sitting in the living room that night. “You have kids here,” he adds. “I won’t be offended if you tell me to fuck off.”

Minkowski and Lovelace share a long, speaking look, so different from the spitfire arguments he remembers from the station. “You _were_ invited,” Minkowski says, just as the silence seems unbreakable.

“Mmm,” Jacobi agrees over his glass of wine. “Hera didn’t tell you guys that, did she?”

“You weren’t invited,” Hera points out.

“It was an unspoken invitation,” Jacobi shoots back.

Eiffel takes a sip of coffee. “I’m okay with it,” he offers.

“Miss me?” Jacobi asks. They share a look that neither of them were intending to give.

Lovelace gives a hissing sigh. “No more explosives for Teddy,” she states, folding her arms.

“What about _really_ high-sugar candy?” Jacobi asks, tearing away from the soft moment.

Minkowski says “Absolutely not,” at the same time as Lovelace says: “Up for debate,” and they stop to glare at each other for a long moment.

“There they are,” Jacobi murmurs, and they can tell he’s pleased. 

A more comfortable silence settles over them. Outside, fireworks are lighting up the Californian sky. “New Year’s Eve,” Jacobi remarks. “You know what I had to do to get this night off? Doesn’t bear repeating, honestly. My boss is – well, actually pretty chill, considering.” His fingers curl around the stem of his wine glass like he’s about to toast something, then thinks better of it. “Can you believe it’s been over five years?”

Minkowski only hums in response.

Eiffel says: “It’s like another lifetime.”

“A bad dream,” Lovelace agrees, before searching for Minkowski’s hand. “For the most part.”

Down the corridor, Teddy sleeps soundly in his bed, the ceiling decorated with stars. Helios hums slightly in the dark quiet of the server room. Their little house is warm and quiet amidst the celebrations of the city.

“Happy new year,” says Hera.

Outside, the sky is exploding into a million artificial galaxies. For now, though, she holds the world that matters within her walls, and as the clock ticks over past midnight, there is peace-

“ _Mom?_ _Mom! My calendar’s broken!_ _”_

_fin_

**Author's Note:**

> Ada got a new goldfish and called it Helios and thus this sequel was born. Mark Midland was lovingly stolen from Time Bombs, by Gabriel Urbina.  
> We missed you guys. Happy new year.


End file.
